


Kitchen Nightmare

by Patcho418



Series: There's a Garden... (Bees ficlets) [3]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Blake is a disaster, But also almost smut, Cooking, F/F, It's steamy that's for sure, Yang Xiao Long knows what she's doing, kitchen, not smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17840072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patcho418/pseuds/Patcho418
Summary: Blake wants to learn how to cook, so Yang helps her make breakfast. Blake just so happens to be absolutely terrible at it.





	Kitchen Nightmare

Yang sighs patiently, watching the egg yolk swimming just at the surface of the bowl that was now filled with perhaps too much milk. Blake stands over it, an empty carton of milk hovering just above the bowl and a cartoonishly sheepish expression on her face.

“Sorry,” she says lowering the carton back to the counter.

Yang laughs gently; they’d been trying all morning to make breakfast—or rather, Yang had been trying to get Blake to make it for once. Blake had insisted she couldn’t cook, couldn’t bake, could hardly prepare noodles without burning the water, but Yang wasn’t having it. There was no way Blake could be that bad.

She looks past Blake at all the other failed attempts at breakfast, including several pieces of toast charred to oblivion, strawberry jam smeared across the counter, and the remnants of a raw piece of bacon that Zwei had gotten to before either of them could stop him.

Yeah, she is that bad.

“Can’t we just have, like, breakfast tuna?” Blake suggests shyly.

Yang purses her lips. “I don’t think that’s a thing, Blakey.”

“But it could be!” she retorts quickly, her eyes wide and desperate for the one food she can actually prepare.

Yang shakes her head and reaches around her partner, arm gliding past her, behind her. She takes the bowl and moves to pour the excess milk into the sink, careful not to let the yolk slide out of the bowl.

Blake watches intently as Yang sets the bowl back on the counter, mixing the contents and occasionally turning towards her with a soft smile playing on her lips. It doesn’t take long for her to finish preparing the eggs, and she moves toward the microwave beside Blake’s head.

“Watch your head, babe,” Yang warns as she moves to open the microwave.

Blake pauses, stares at the inside of her arm reaching past her. Yang has to nudge her to move, and her sudden movement startles the girl, sending her head sideways into the bowl. Yang is quick enough to not lose her grip on it, but a few drops of egg land on top of her head, slowly rolling down her furrowed brow.

Yang laughs; she is so adorable when she pouts. “C’mon, baby,” she urges with a giggle in her voice, and finally Blake cedes, moving with her eyes trailing Yang. She places the eggs in the microwave, setting the timer and turning back to her, grabbing a paper towel beside her. “You’re such a mess in the kitchen. I had no idea this was even possible.”

Her partner pouts still, arms crossed as Yang wipes the spill from her forehead. “Shut up, this isn’t funny.”

The blonde shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, it kinda is.”

Blake’s frown deepens, but then takes on a mischievous air that takes Yang by surprise. Before she can react, Blake reaches out to the counter to where she’d spilled some jam earlier, coats her fingers in the spread, and swiftly brings it to Yang’s cheek, slathering her fair skin.

The blonde steps backward, mouth agape, as Blake giggles loudly. She tries to reach out again, taking advantage of Yang’s surprise, but she sees right through her trickery and catches her wrist, smirking devilishly. Blake seems to realise her mistake far too late and lets out a yelp as Yang effortlessly brings her hand back towards her face, catching her nose with the jam.

Blake shuffles against her own hand, spreading the rest of the jam on her own cheek just before Yang pulls her hand away, hand still on her wrist. Blake scoffs playfully. “Yang Xiao Long, you are the worst!”

Yang snickers. “Says the girl who can’t cook a meal to save her life!”

“Well that’s what you’re around for,” Blake retorts, rolling her eyes.

She secures her grip on Blake’s wrist; not enough to threaten or hurt her, but the playful expression on her face conveys her intent. “Oh? Is that the only reason you keep me around, Belladonna?”

Blake stiffens, suddenly flustered as Yang leans closer—close enough to notice the subtle pink filling her cheeks and outlining her lips, close enough to watch her amber eyes dart down to her mouth, close enough to see her swallow when she glances back up into lilac orbs.

“Yes,” she grumbles, and Yang knows Blake’s just trying to keep up her cool appearance.

“Really?” Yang muses, her lips pursing thoughtfully as she glances towards Blake’s jam-covered fingers; she’s also close enough to notice them twitch the moment her eyes fall on them. She pulls her hand closer to her—Blake gives absolutely no resistance—and her mouth hovers beside her fingers.

Ever so slowly, her lips part and her tongue draws across her teeth. Under her bottom lip she feels a heat, slow to build but intense in its warmth, and as she looks up, gazing into stunned, yearning amber eyes, her tongue deliberately slides along Blake’s finger, gliding effortlessly across, leaving behind a wet gleam.

Yang slightly cranes her neck, adjusting herself to Blake’s other finger, but she does not separate from her gaze, not for one moment; the stunned longing she sees in her partner’s eyes, the desire and infatuation hovering around her eyes and spreading through to her cheeks, is too enticing for her to even want to break it.

This time, as her tongue curls around on of her knuckles, Yang almost feels Blake lean into her. She glides her tongue up her finger and back down to her knuckle, lingering in place as she closes her warm lips around her, taking her in between them and sucking the sweet red remaining on her finger.

She hovers before the last jam-smeared finger on Blake’s hand, smiling coyly against her warm skin. Adjusting her head against Blake’s hand again, Yang draws her tongue to the tip of her curled finger, her bottom lip dragging behind and persisting just below. She takes her time, letting the sweetness of her partner’s fair skin and the soft, fruity jam sit against her tongue, a mix of heat and flavour dancing across her mouth. Then, with one last sneaking smirk, she brings her upper lip around her finger, her mouth gently closing around her fingertip; for the briefest of moments, Blake’s eyes flutter under her long lashes as she tries her best not to dart from Yang’s lips to her own hand. The blonde can hardly contain her grin, the corners of her lips pulling upwards as she leisurely slips Blake’s finger from between her lips, tongue dragging along her warm knuckles one final time.

Yang finally loosens her grip, lets Blake’s hand fall back to her side, yet for a moment the dark-haired woman lingers. A chuckle escapes her mouth. “You were saying?”

Blake leans backward, her arms pressed against the ledge behind her for support as she breathes heavily, unable to close her mouth, unable to keep her eyes off of Yang’s mouth. “Yang Xiao Long, you are…” Yang waits patiently, her expression mischievous as she takes a small step towards Blake, who finally manages to breathe: “The worst.”

The blonde smirks, stepping closer to her partner; she can almost feel the heat radiating from her body. She slides her hands onto the counter behind Blake, the dark-haired woman trying her best to keep her focus on Yang’s face and not her bare arms grazing her own, strong muscle suppressed by soft skin. Her hands glide across the counter slowly, fully controlled, and soon the two are inches away, Yang’s blonde locks just barely brushing Blake’s nose.

She takes a quick glance at Blake’s parted lips, smirks, and licks her own eagerly. “So I’ve been told.”

By the time they remember the eggs in the microwave, they’ve long gone cold.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone curious as to how good I personally am at cooking, I still make scrambled eggs in the microwave because after nine years I never learned otherwise.
> 
> EDIT: Okay so to answer a question I have received in the comments and on tumblr, microwaving eggs is all I know how to do cause it's simple af. Basically you just get a microwave-safe bowl, put one or two eggs in it (depending how much you wanna eat), pour in about a cap full of milk, and then mix. After they're mixed together nicely, you pop them in for about 50 seconds, take them out and mix again, then pop them in for another 50 seconds. Take them out, scramble them up, and bam! Microwaved scrambled eggs!


End file.
